Tag Archives: Spoken Word

Even by the standards of extreme music, this split is pretty harrowing. Clawing blend dark ambient soundscapes with Matt Finney’s spoken word contributions, which – if you’re familiar with his work – you know means that you’re in for an emotionally heavy time. Offerbeest is one of the aliases of Maurice de Jong, perhaps best known for his work as Gnaw Their Tongues. His tracks here are no less devastating than those released under that well-known moniker, being filled with harsh noise and industrial oppression, conjured via analog synths. Hardly an enjoyable trip, then – but it’s not meant to be. Instead, it is a split that forces you to confront your demons, to face what is haunting you, throwing yourself into the nightmare and hoping to emerge on the other side.

Matt Finney has, through sheer hard work and determination, become something of a genre unto himself. His spoken word style is distinctive, both in its delivery – straight-forward, matter-of-fact, recounted almost without emotion at times – and also its subject matter which is, invariably, dealing with the bleaker parts of life. Such is the case with Clawing, which also features Austin Gaines and Jeff McLeod, and their debut release Spectral Estate. Over the course of forty minutes, the trio craft a record that is never anything less than unsettling, with its industrial/dark ambient soundscapes shifting and morphing in disturbing fashion, as if they were an expression of broken lives trying to piece themselves back together without success, all topped off with Matt’s spoken words. It’s horrific in its bleakness, but also deeply impressive and hard to look away from.

Gospel is the third collaboration (though second to be released) between Siavash Amini and Matt Finney, and the combination of ambient/drone soundscapes and confessional spoken word is every bit as emotionally devastating as you’d hope and expect. It’s not a record to be enjoyed in any conventional sense of the word; instead, it’s music as therapy, as a means of confronting one’s demons and trying to put the past behind you, no matter how Sisyphean a task that may seem. It picks up the thread (both musically and emotionally) from Familial Rotand not so much runs with it as it does stumble forward, hands reaching desperately for safety, fighting off demons and trauma that are more spiritual than anything else. It is a haunting, uncomfortable listen; but also compelling in its own way.

Sometimes, there is comfort in the darkness. There are records out there whose content speaks of pain and misery, and wants you, the listener, to know that you’re not alone; to know that things will get better.

How We Lived isn’t one of those albums.

On their second full-length together, the duo of Heinali and Matt Finney have crafted something that may move with a damaged grace and sense of warped beauty; and there may be sounds that shimmer and dance in the haze; but more than that, How We Lived is an album heavy with the sounds of deep-seated sorrow, rooted in the everyday experiences that slowly build up until the burden feels insurmountable. It is a challenging listen, intense in a more emotional rather than musical sense, but it is also a deeply rewarding one, where the void in your soul may stare back at you, but if you’re strong enough to avoid looking away, How We Lived makes for one hell of an experience.

If you’re in the market for something to get sad to, then Vases is just what you’re after. The collaboration between dark electronics musician Wet Nurse. and Matt Finney is bleak, depressing, and possessed of a certain beauty. This is music for staying up late, wondering where it all went wrong and feeling powerless to do anything about it. And yet, as unappealing as that may make it sound, there’s something about Vases that makes it easy to listen to for hours at a time, sinking in to its dark, melancholy embrace.

Matt Finney has worked with a lot of artists over the past few years, adding his spoken word passages to dark music to create records that are as unsettling as they are addictive. This latest though, in collaboration with Siavash Amini, may be the bleakest release he has been involved with. With a musical backbone of dark ambient and sparse drone, Familial Rot tells a story of a life collapsing in slow motion, picking out those small details which seem so important in retrospect. It’s incredibly emotional without ever risking becoming over-dramatic, and is perfect music for late-night/early morning introspection, regret, and melancholy.